


Knife's Edge

by chainsawdog



Series: FTCW Writing Wednesday Prompts [5]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: One Shot, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chainsawdog/pseuds/chainsawdog
Summary: Pong Krell's slaughter of the clone troopers on Umbara played out exactly as he planned. Now he must contend with the unexpected consequences of his actions.





	Knife's Edge

Pong Krell limped through the building, clutching the lightsaber wound on his shoulder. He couldn’t believe he’d escaped, but he wasn’t out of danger yet.  
  
He’d been a fool to think he could be a Sith. A fool to lead the 501st to their deaths. How could he have known what would happen? His plan had worked - to a point. The clones had slaughtered one another.  
  
It would have been perfect; Krell would have made his way to Dooku, and offered his allegiance. The deaths of so many clones proof of his willingness to follow the Dark Side.  
  
Krell had not counted on Skywalker. 

  
  


Anakin’s mind was clouded with the red heat of rage. The battlefield of Umbara was a mass grave of clones. Rex had fallen, bloodied, amongst his brothers, thinking he was fighting the enemy.  
  
What Krell had done… he would pay.  
  
Anakin’s throat ached. He could barely hear, and tears wet his cheeks, but his hands were steady. His anger had brought a clarity that led to one conclusion: Krell would die.  
  
That wasn’t enough, of course. As Anakin stalked Krell through the captured Umbaran base, his mind raced with ways he could make Krell suffer. He hadn’t felt this thirst for death since his mother had died. Then, however, the deaths he'd granted had been swift. Krell would die slowly.  
  
And Obi-Wan… Anakin gritted his teeth. What Krell had done to him was unforgivable. Only Anakin’s timely arrival had saved Obi-Wan’s life, but he would never be the same. He would never walk again. He might never speak again, either.  
  
Anakin’s fury burned within him, giving him the focus he needed to find Krell. The Besalisk was cowering, trying to mask his presence, but Anakin had his scent. Krell could cross the Galaxy and Anakin would find him.  
  
Anakin pointed his saber at Krell.  
  
“Found you,” he said.  
  
“Please, mercy,” Krell begged. “I’m disarmed. Revenge isn’t the way of the Jedi.”  
  
Anakin’s grin was almost a snarl. His eyes were wild. There was no reasoning with such an animal.  
  
With a slow, thoughtful movement, Anakin raised his hand. Krell stiffened, his eyes widening as Anakin restricted his movement with the Force.  
  
“You will suffer, Pong Krell,” he said. “There are no Jedi that can save you now.”  
  
“Kill me, then,” said Krell. “Surely even you wouldn’t stoop to torture.”  
  
Anakin paused. Something in Krell’s words reached the near-silent part of him that knew he was wrong.  
  
_Tear him limb from limb!_ his thoughts clamoured. _Make him suffer! A slow, painful death is the only thing that he deserves!_  
  
But… what would that mean for Anakin? He could do this, yes, he was powerful, his anger clear and burning like a star. With his anger, Anakin could have torn the Galaxy to pieces.  
  
If he did this… Obi-Wan would never look at him again. Ahsoka… what would she think? And the deaths of the Tusken Raiders hadn’t turned Padmé from him, but she hadn’t seen it. She didn’t know how truly awful he could be. She could never know.  
  
And if the Jedi found Krell the way Anakin wanted to leave him…  
  
No.  
  
Anakin switched his saber off, and clipped it to his belt. He dropped Krell to the ground roughly.  
  
“You don’t deserve this,” Anakin snarled. “You have lost the right to mercy. You are scum, and the Jedi will see that you get what you deserve.”  
  
Krell didn’t even try to fight as Anakin bound him. With one hand, Anakin dragged Krell back into the light of day. He threw the Besalisk at Mace Windu’s feet, and turned away, aware that his rage sang bright in the Force.  
  
For all his power, Anakin couldn’t even avenge the death of his friend. His heart ached with profound despair as he made his way to Obi-Wan, cloistered in a hastily put-together medcentre. 

  
  


Obi-Wan looked up as Anakin entered. Even in his medicine-induced haze, he could sense Anakin’s anger. The part of him that could still feel despaired. Anakin couldn’t fall. Not after everything.  
  
Krell had taken enough from him. His throat was numb. He couldn’t speak, and the medic hadn’t seemed confident that he ever would again. As for his legs… well, they weren’t there anymore.  
  
Anakin sat down next to Obi-Wan’s bed. He said nothing, but radiated fury. Hesitantly, Anakin reached out a hand. His rough fingers wrapped around Obi-Wan’s own. Obi-Wan used the little strength he had left to squeeze Anakin’s hand.  
  
“I didn’t kill him,” Anakin said hoarsely. “Krell will face the justice of the Jedi. I couldn’t… I wasn’t…”  
  
Obi-Wan blinked dazedly. He couldn’t form the words in his mind. He could only hope that his relief would be sensed by Anakin. It wasn’t a failing, being unable to take revenge. It was a sign of strength.  
  
Obi-Wan would get his voice back, somehow, if only to tell Anakin how proud he was.  
  
Soon, Anakin fell asleep. Obi-Wan watched him. He had missed so much of Anakin's growth, still seeing him as the boy from Tatooine. Qui-Gon's dying wish. Maybe Anakin needed more than that. Certainly, he had grown as Ahsoka's Master.  
  
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He would get his voice back. Anakin needed him, still. They had a lot to talk about.


End file.
